Life has a taste, and he's had the bitter, the sour, the sweet and the salty.
All those firsts, spent.
Weightlessness, sex, decision and aim. All that he gave, until he stopped.
He keeps going, because the one thing that's left, he doesn't want. Not yet.
Which means there's hope.
He takes the scorn, the brilliance and the cold. She tastes like nothing he's ever had before.
Like completion.